Yet Grows All The Richer
by dormammu
Summary: It's the New Year's Eve party at the Avengers Tower, all the Avengers who could attend are there. Steve is in his own corner, drinking Coke and thinking about his teammates. Then about other things, shiny things being touched by rough, clever hands...
The Avengers' New Year's Eve party is well under way. Steve is in his corner, nursing a Coke, occasionally being approached by friends and acquaintances and getting dragged into conversations. He just smiles and makes small talk, they leave and he's back to his solitary ways. He's always been more of an observer anyway. And this, as all other parties thrown by Tony Stark, offers a lot to be observed. Steve is glad all his teammates seem to be having a great time. They've come so far as a team, training hard almost daily, exchanging knowledge and, Steve hopes, maybe even becoming friends. Natasha and Sam come to his mind. He searches the crowd for them, and spots them by the bar, they're chatting animatedly with some tough looking guys, Steve recognizes one of them as Sam's friend from the army, Sam is smiling, Natasha is... not. Steve only hopes those tough guys have enough common sense not to challenge her to physical displays of strength and skill.

His gaze travels to his next teammate, Rhodey, he is gesticulating wildly, explaining something to a surrounding group of people, he catches Steve's eye, smiles and says something Steve can recognize as "And then that guy there -" oh God, he is telling them about the Madripoor raid. Steve's suspicion is confirmed when Rhodey makes rolling motions with his hands, obviously showing and telling his rapt audience how Steve had distracted the bad guys by doing a quadruple somersault into the water while Rhodey got the opportunity to lead the charge from behind. Steve doesn't mind, but he'll be damned if he'll listen to that embarrassing story again even from this far. He raises his glass of coke to Rhodey, who is now telling the people just what he said to the boss of a crime organization he found cowering in the basement, offers him a brief simile, and lets his gaze travel elsewhere.

To Wanda Maximoff, standing by the glass fence, talking in Sokovian to a woman she introduced months ago as her cousin living in New York. They all had a fond memory of the time Wanda treated them to a Sokovian spicy sausage, home-made by that same cousin. Steve didn't know Wanda before the whole Ultron debacle but something told him that she wasn't as withdrawn as she now often appeared to be, following her twin brother's death. Steve can empathize with her, he too knows that feeling of wanting to say something to someone who was always there for you, your closest friend, your family, only to realize they are not there. Or, for that matter, when the person you want to say so many things can't understand what you're saying because she is in the world of her own, slowly withering away. Or he's lost and doesn't want you to find him... Steve chases away those thoughts, no use going there at a party of all places.

Wanda sees him looking, staring at her, and for a second there's that chilling moment in which Steve can feel her thinking "How dare you intrude!" Then she seemingly collects herself and smiles apologetically at Steve. Steve smiles back, he figures that's on him, he knows Wanda doesn't like to be watched. Some of the other Avengers have previously complained about her "Sudden Look of Death." Wanda on the other hand complained several times about the "nosy American ways". Steve figures it's best not to linger. He thinks momentarily about Clint, not here tonight, he offered his apologies, but everyone knows that he'd rather be with his family. Thor is still in Asgard, looking and hopefully finding his answers. No one has any clue as to where Bruce is ever since Ultron, Steve lets himself hope he's alright and not alone.

Steve looks at his watch, the one Tony gave him for his birthday - national holiday most important to a hero of a star-spangled persuasion, as Tony called it right before showing him his plans for the party he was going to throw him. Steve let him, thinking he needed something to distract him from blaming himself for Ultron, and the break up with Ms Potts that had happened either before or after Ultron, Tony, surprisingly, was not much of a sharer on that subject.

It's 11:45, 16 minutes more until he can go to his own quarters without anyone noticing.

2016, he thinks, just two more years and he'll be celebrating his own centennial. He can already imagine Tony's pitch for that party. Dinosaur theme most likely. A loud cheer shakes him out of his reverie. He looks in the direction of the noise and sees a spectacle worthy of this new age. His teammate Vision is levitating at least 50 glasses filled with champagne using only his cape. He's doing it one-handedly, without looking. The shimmering fabric of the cape is completely flat and parallel to the floor, it looks like it's standing on an invisible table. Steve hears someone saying he can't keep it up for long, and the synthezoid responding in a flat voice "I can do this for an indeterminable amount of time." to more great cheers and further questions from the adoring fans. Then Steve sees Tony. He's approaching Vision and saying "I'll give you anything if you can keep it up for," he glances at his watch, "13 more minutes". As if Vision can say no to Tony, especially a dressed-up Tony smiling at him with all the sincerity and charm he possesses. Who can say no to those big dark eyes wanting something from you, asking you sincerely, one of those capable hands on your shoulder in a placating gesture... Steve remembers the envelope in his jacket, a belated gift for Tony he still hasn't delivered. And then the man himself is in front of him. He is smiling, somewhat less dazzlingly than moments ago, but all the more warmly. It's what Steve came to recognize as Tony's "Hey there!" smile.

"Having fun?" Tony asks, looking briefly at Steve's glass of Coke.

"Yeah. As always, it's a great party Tony." he hears himself say. He smiles weakly. "I see you've convinced Vision to be a magician for a quarter of hour."

"He has the bling for it, so why not? I see you've been doing a great imitation of a wallflower again." Tony says and winks at him. Steve has an urge to look at his lips. This is bad.

"I have a thing." he says quickly. "I mean, I have something for you. A present. Since we didn't see each other on Christmas..." he says nonchalantly in an effort to sound fine with that. Tony had decided to spend those holidays in his workshop and declined Sam's invite to a lunch at his family's - the one Steve and Natasha both accepted - and all the other invitations Steve knew came his way. That man sometimes...

"Oh," Tony says. "But I got the, there's a..." he makes a vague gesture of milking or something to that effect, and Steve knows what he's talking about, the team all chipped in and bought Tony a high-end coffee machine which Vision then further "improved upon" using his powers of... Steve didn't really know what, Jarvis' knowledge of Tony's tastes probably. Steve didn't ask and he trusted Vision when he said it was completely safe.

"The coffee maker was from the team, this is from me." Steve says, and damn it, his stomach is starting to do the thing. He decides to make it quick, shorten the mortification. He reaches into his inner jacket pocket and pulls out the envelope, offers it to Tony.

Not breaking eye contact Tony takes it, their fingers brushing, Steve can feel an army of butterflies preparing to storm the castle.

The envelope is not sealed nor is it anything fancy, Steve thought about putting an ornament on it, a ribbon or something but decided it would be too embarrassing, so finally, he decided to just write "For Tony Stark" with his own hand, in cursive letters.

Tony opens it impatiently and pulls out the gift, two sheets of paper, each with 2 pencil drawings of a motorcycle part. They're parts of Steve's Harley Davidson.

Tony appraises the drawings for a moment, and then Steve can see his grin widening impossibly, the understanding dawning on him to Steve's delight.

"Are you serious? You'll let me tinker? Wait a sec, you'll let me touch it? With my hands? These hands?" he asks thrusting the said hands and wiggling them in front of Steve's eyes. Disbelief and joy are written all over his face. And then there's that warmth in his look that makes Steve's insides turn into pudding. He swallows thickly.

"I've seen the way you look at it and said to myself: I guess these are the four parts I can live without," he says jokingly, trying not to reflect too much on the fact that just moments ago Tony's hands, the objects of many of his fantasies were so close to his lips.

Thinking about Tony touching his trusty motorcycle with those hands of his, fantasizing about those deft fingers gripping the steering wheel "just to check something" was one of the main reasons he decided on that present. Just the sketching of the parts he chose, touching the finished drawings and imagining Tony's fingers splayed over the real parts, his skin in contrast to the shiny chrome, was for Steve akin to watching a blue movie in some very pleasurable if embarrassing ways. Not that he's ever going to admit that to anyone. He has it bad, but he knows that, other than few detailed fantasies, nothing will ever come out of it.

"I promise you, you are not going to regret this." Tony says, grinning, as if Steve just gave him a chance to perform an open surgery on his heart.

"I better not." Steve says in mock seriousness.

"I have something for you too." Tony says then, breaking the moment. "Actually that's why I came here, to catch you before you run away, as you usually do as soon as there's an excuse you can get away with. Aw don't look at me like that, I know you, you were going to sneak out as soon as they screamed 'Happy New Year!' and started drinking for real."

Steve offers him a cryptic smile. "You already gave me a present," he says, and then, more seriously, "The most amazing present I got this or any other year. Those kids Tony..."

"That's more of a present for them though?" and Tony is looking at him in that No Bullshit way, and Steve can feel his heart starting a drum call for those belligerent butterflies.

Tony really did give him one of the best presents ever for Christmas. On the morning of December 23rd he sneakily tried to push a simple envelope under Steve's door. But Steve saw it materializing on the floor just as he was getting out of the shower. Thinking there was foul play, he flung the door open, not even aware he wasn't fully, or at all, dressed.

Only to find Tony Stark kneeling at his doorstep, smiling easily and holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I was just delivering a present to one of the few good boys left in New York. Ho, ho, ho?" Steve breathed a sigh of relief, helped Tony get up and pulled him into his suite. Picking up the envelope, he motioned for Tony to sit on the bed then flopped next to him. "You'd be the worst spy, Tony." he remembers saying and nudging Tony playfully with his bare shoulder.

"I guess I'll have to be content with my status as a -" "- Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist!" they said together and laughed.

Steve then opened his envelope and what he saw there almost made his heart stop. It was a 2 million dollars check, addressed to Saint Agnes Orphanage.

"I would've put your name on it but I knew you'd rather it be anonymous, just like a goody you are." Tony said, while Steve was still trying to get his bearings. He visited that orphanage at least once every month and he knew just how much in need of resources it was. Two million dollars! Tony did this for him. Steve was rendered speechless but he remembers managing to say "Thank you." and "Hot dog!" at which Tony laughed, shook his head and said "You really are too much sometimes, Steve Rogers." And Tony was the one talking! Then Tony left Steve who was still staring at the check in shock, excusing himself with all the work he left waiting in the workshop.

Presently, Tony reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small package. It's rectangular, wrapped in a silky-looking white paper and there's a blue ribbon on it. It looks really nice, Steve thinks, as far as presents go. Tony notices him looking at the ribbon and they both say "It's a boy!" at the same time. Then laugh like idiots.

"Open it." Tony says, more seriously. Steve does, he rips the paper and opens the small box he finds inside. It's a memory stick. With "Stark Industries" logo on one side and "Altamont 1.0" on the other. He looks at Tony confusedly.

"It's for Barnes." Tony says and Steve feels icy cold pooling in his gut. Is this a joke?

Tony sees a change in Steve's demeanor and continues more rapidly "It's a program, a search engine connected to my satellites. It's using reference photos and videos from 2 years back in Washington for facial recognition. I mean it's not perfect by any account and if your friend underwent a plastic surgery it could make the search hard. Super hard, but not impossible because the program also works with algorithms that can recognize details like the gait of the person it's looking for and cross reference with the surrounding context, you know, weird news, events? And obviously that arm of his is not easy to hide so it's checking for every mention of "metal hand" in almost all of the world languages. I am not saying it'll definitely work but I tested it and the results show a lot of promise."

"All of that, on this?" Steve says skeptically, holding up the small stick between them.

"No. Simply put, that's just the program you install on your Starkpad and once you're connected to the internet it fetches the results of the search. The real deal is a network of Stark Industries supercomputers in a room like 10 of these," he makes a sweeping motion with his hand, "working day and night, collecting data, comparing, discarding irrelevant stuff, focusing on anything that shows promise. I can show you the math if you're interested."

And Steve, although not nearly as knowledgeable in the ins and outs of this computer age as Tony Stark, realizes at once: Tony is using his resources, and a lot of them, just to try and help him, not even sure in the success of the search.

"Nuts!" he says simply, pocketing the stick. Because really, what else is there to say to such a Tony Stark thing?

At that Tony relaxes a little. "Tsk-tsk Cap, what did we say about your swearing?"

"You're not getting a penny, Stark." he says, suppressing a smile as he remembers the week few months ago, when Tony made one of his robots follow Cap around the tower with a jar that had a "CUSS CASH" label on it, to a never ending amusement of all the other Avengers. Sam still teased him about it sometimes.

"Thank you Tony," he says. "You have no idea how much this means to me, that you would even... Me and Sam, we've been looking for so long... Really, thanks for even trying to help." And then before thinking about what he's doing he's taking Tony's hand in his and briefly pressing it, trying to convey his gratitude. Tony's eyes widen in surprise, but he's still smiling at him.

Somewhere in the distance Steve is aware of people getting ready to count down to 2016. He looks at the clock, it's barely 2 minutes to midnight.

"Good," Tony says. "Presents exchanged without casualties. Happy New Year, Steve." He's turning to leave. Steve mumbles "Happy New Year Tony" back at him and thinks maybe that's for the best, it'd be funny if they entered the New Year making small talk and shuffling their feet awkwardly like Steve is doing now. Tony takes a few slow steps in some unknown direction. Steve feels only a little abandoned but ready to fake a smile with the best of them. Then, just as he's almost swallowed by the gathering crowd, Tony halts, and turns back.

"I'm Italian, you know?" he says, already in front of Steve again. "Well, only half Italian but some say that Italian blood doesn't mix."

Steve just looks at him, puzzled as ever after hearing one of Tony Stark's non sequitur statements. Tony continues in his rambling way, and Steve notices that he's really close now, closer than before, when they were talking.

"On festive occasions, we Italians have these customs like eating way too sweet desserts, yelling a lot, and of course the festive kissing on the cheek. It's a cultural thing. Especially if there's an exchange of gifts and we already did that. As you can understand, it feels incomplete." Tony is looking at Steve expectantly, with those eyes. "I'm Italian, Steve so I must insist." he repeats as his lips approach Steve's cheek. Can cheeks tremble? Steve wonders, expecting that stupid platonic peck like a thirsty man expects water.

"And you of course have to kiss my cheek too. It's a cultural thing, you know, it has to be synchronized. And not just one cheek, you have to kiss me on both cheeks, and I have to do the same. It's the festive Italian way."

And Steve can play this weird game, he thinks. He inclines his head a little so that his lips are almost touching Tony's cheek. "Like this?"

Tony answers, in a voice that sounds as husky as Steve feels: "Yeah, like that. Now kiss me." and they kiss one of each other's cheeks. Then slowly switch and kiss the other. And Steve realizes how good Tony smells, it's his aftershave or his shampoo, or some kind of witchcraft that makes Steve want to never stop kissing his cheek, his face, him. So he doesn't, he just inches nearer and nearer to Tony's lips, loving the feel of Tony's beard against his cheek and lips. He realizes what he's doing just when Tony moans in pleasure. The die is cast, he thinks, "You know Tony, I'm two halves Irish?" he says against the corner of Tony's lips and then slowly kisses him. Tony opens his mouth and hungrily kisses back, and then they're kissing for real, and Tony is the first one to slip in a bit of tongue, the calculating little bastard. God Steve loves customs!

The roar of the ten second countdown to midnight sounds off. Between their kisses Steve hears Tony muttering "finally". He agrees with that statement wholeheartedly and communicates his agreement by further deepening their kiss and grasping one of Tony's hands with his own. Tony's fingers squeeze his in return, they intertwine, and Steve's heart is close to bursting as he feels the rough skin of Tony's palm against his own. He briefly considers not letting Tony touch the Harley after all, because he likes his hands fine just where they are, one in his and the other clutching at his back. But then he remembers his fantasies and decides he'll keep his word but he'll also definitely be present for the "tinkering".

Then he's back to not thinking at all, just kissing and being kissed by Tony, unaware of the clinking glasses and fireworks welcoming them into 2016.


End file.
